Even Geniuses Have A Breaking Point
by winterfellwolfling
Summary: "It was abnormal, almost unthinkable to imagine him falling apart because of something completely unrelated to her, because everything he did he executed perfectly and everyone he met thought of him as a god."


It was rare for Kotoko to see him break down.

The genius who was successful at everything he did rarely had need to feel pain or sad emotions unless, through some stupid fight they had or something she was feeling, she was the cause. It was abnormal, almost unthinkable to imagine him falling apart because of something completely unrelated to her, because everything he did he executed perfectly and everyone he met thought of him as a god. He held in his hands a crazy IQ, a loving wife, a stable job, and a natural talent at everything he tried. What reason could he possibly have to fail?

But he did, and it was fatal.

The girl had died on the operating table. It was supposed to be a simple operation, but unforeseen complications caused bleeding even Naoki's skilled hands couldn't control. He showed no sign of panic, but Kotoko could tell his hands were moving at a frantic pace, his voice was more stressed as he kept demanding different surgical tools, anything to fix the problem. He kept talking to her, trying his hardest to keep a calm voice as he begged her to live. Kotoko didn't even think the other doctors noticed the change in his tone, but she could. She could always tell.

Even when she flat lined, he refused to give up. He gave her CPR for seventeen minutes all while demanding that the other doctors continue working to save her. After a while when they yelled at him to stop he ignored them, continuing to press into the girl's chest with a steady but forceful rhythm. It was only when Kotoko gently touched his bloody hands that he took his eyes away from the patient and focused his gaze solely on his wife. Silently, Naoki realized that it was over. Kotoko saw the emotion in his eyes evolve from determined to understanding to pain until it was empty. It was that cold glare that she was all too familiar with and she knew what it meant. Her husband was closing himself off. She thinks it's the only way he was able to pronounce the girl dead at 8:32 PM that day.

She was only 11 years old.

He didn't say anything to her the rest of the night. Kotoko tried to be cheery and lift his spirits, but he simply ignored her. Normally, this would annoy her to no end. This time, it just made her sad. It was his defense, but this time it wasn't against her or accepting her love or giving in to his mother or rejecting jealousy. He was blocking out the pain, allowing him to keep going to work and doing his job. It broke Kotoko's heart.

The silence lasted for about a week and a half. Kotoko had been giving him his space, not wanting to talk about it, not wanting to bring back that pain in his eyes she only got a small glimpse of in the operating room. But she knew it was eating at him inside, and she refused to let him suffer alone anymore. If he was going through hell, she'd be damned if she didn't at least hold his hand through the fire until he made it out.

When he came into their room that night she was waiting for him. As he had done every night for the past week and a half, he set his bag down, changed his clothes, brushed his teeth, all without saying a word or even acknowledging her presence. Earlier in the relationship this would have made Kotoko depressed, wondering what she did wrong and how inferior she must be to deserve some treatment. She knew him better now.

When he came back from the bathroom he simply stopped and stared off into space when she offered him her special homemade coffee.

"I'm going to bed." He said, still not meeting her gaze. He walked past her, almost making it to the bed before she stopped him once more. Having put the coffee down, she grabbed his arms and spun him around, her firm grip willing him to stay standing before her.

"Don't do that." She ordered. "Don't block me out."

He simply looked at the ground, remaining so limp in her grasp that it scared her. Compared to his usual self, alive with sarcasm and gentle smiles and warm hands she loved to hold, he seemed like a rag doll, lifeless and empty.

"You try to act like you're okay, like nothing can ever get past that perfect brain of yours. But you're not. Irie-kun, please. Talk to me. It's okay to be sad."

He tried to get out of her grasp, to release himself, and she could tell he was only getting tenser and angrier by the second, but he was half a person and she had a determination that couldn't be matched. He got nowhere.

He never looked at her, just at the floor, his bangs hiding his eyes. Kotoko gently touched his face with one hand, a touch he resisted. He tried to look to the side, but she brought it back with a more forceful grab. She brought up her other hand, keeping his head facing straight forward and pushing it ever so slightly up. She could see his eyes now, but they refused to see her. He shut them tight, his last futile attempt to shut out the world.

"Look at me." She demanded.

He didn't.

"Naoki."

It stopped his struggling. She only ever used his real name in the most intimate moments, when they were most powerfully declaring their love for each other, when she was most upset with him, when something he did made her so happy she thought she would die. Her voice was gentle.

She whispered one last time, stroking her fingers on the sides of his face. "Look at me."

His eyes opened.

He knew that if he looked at her, if he really looked into those mesmerizing earth-brown eyes, he would feel that sensation of love that overwhelmed him every time he saw her. And loving meant feeling. And feeling meant pain.

For the first time since she had met him, Kotoko saw Irie Naoki crumble right before her eyes.

At first his eyes met hers and she could see it all rushing through him. The blood on his hands, the heartbeat stopping, hearing the parents scream in despair as he told them the news. She watched as it took seconds for the Irie Naoki who rarely showed emotion to go from detached to silently sobbing. He fell to the ground and she fell with him, her hands never leaving his face but never wiping the tears. If he needed to cry, she was going to let him cry.

He wasn't a loud crier, but his breaths were ragged and shallow and heartbreaking. He bent out of her grasp and his head fell to his knees, his hands clutching his head. She wouldn't have it. She wouldn't let him handle it alone. So she guided his face to her lap, holding his face in her lap as he cried. She kept stroking his hair, kissing his head, holding him close to her. He didn't talk much, she knew what he was thinking. He was blaming himself for not being able to save a patient. He was haunted by the blood, the screaming, the sound of the flat line. So she simply whispered in his ear that it wasn't his fault. She told him he did everything he could, that he was still an amazing doctor, even geniuses can't control life and death. After a while his hand came to hers, and she held it tighter than ever.

She didn't know how long it was before the crying stopped. When he hand strength again he sat up, his hand never leaving hers. His eyes were bloodshot and his face was puffy and stained with the tears he had finally let out. He looked exhausted and Kotoko knew he was far from okay. She brought her lips to his forehead. He closed his eyes, relishing in the feeling of her pure love gracing his skin. She kissed each of his red eyes, the hold on his hand getting tighter. His fingers gently caressed her knuckles. He leaned her forehead against hers before letting his head fall to her shoulder. The only reason their hands left each other was so that their bodies could get closer. He pulled her onto his lap, holding her back tightly. She held his head as he placed innocent pecks on her neck. And there they were, loving Kotoko saving her broken husband from himself yet again.

In the morning Naoki awoke to the smell of fresh coffee and the sight of her smile.

"Good morning." She said delicately, knowing he was still trying to get back to normalcy.

For the first time since he lost the patient, he donned a gentle Naoki smile. It was so small that anyone else may not have even noticed. But she did. She always noticed. His hand reached out to push her hair behind her ear before cradling her face.

"Thank you." He whispered.

"For what?"

He took a moment. There were many things he could say. For saving me. For holding me when I cried. For letting me know when to stop in the operating room. For marrying me.

"For being alive."


End file.
